


Practice Makes Perfect

by mrsmischief



Series: Partners [11]
Category: Wallander (UK TV)
Genre: Dancing, F/M, Romance, Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-30
Updated: 2013-09-30
Packaged: 2017-12-27 19:26:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/982687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mrsmischief/pseuds/mrsmischief
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You and Magnus practice your wedding waltz. And get distracted. ;)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Practice Makes Perfect

"You keep stepping on my toes!"  
"So do you."  
"No, I'm doing what were _supposed_ to be doing, you're not, so it's your fault."  
"I told you I'm not a dancer..."

You sighed and let go of Magnus, taking a step back.  
"If we're going to dance at the wedding, we have to practice..." you reminded him, getting an exasperated sigh as a reply. Magnus clearly wasn't as keen as you were.  
"I know," he finally groaned. "Okay, let's try again."

The music was still playing, so you just grabbed each other again, hand in hand and another on a shoulder or on a waist, and off you went, beginning perhaps the most awkward and uncoordinated waltz of all time. But you managed, little by little, to find the rhythm you were supposed to. Magnus found the confidence in himself, or pretended to, at least, and finally took the lead. For a moment, it all worked out, somewhat.

Then you bumped into the sofa.

"You're supposed to watch where we're going, honey," you told him, gently this time. You had got past the point where you'd get annoyed at him, you suddenly had the patience of a Buddhist monk. Or someone who had lots of it, anyway. Magnus muttered something quietly, then pushed you more against the sofa, until you fell down on it, lying down with him on top of you.

"You know what else we should practice?" he asked, lips only half an inch from yours. You could feel his breath on your skin, hot and inviting. And you knew well where this would lead...  
"Magnus, the wedding is in less than a week-"  
"The wedding night, that's what we should practice," he interrupted you, then placed his lips on yours to silence any further disagreeing words that would surely have come out of your mouth.

"Mags..." you sighed, giggling when his mouth found an especially ticklish spot on your neck.  
"Seriously, if we're going to get that dance right-"  
"Who do you think will even care? It's a small wedding, so less distant family members to impress," he murmured, kissing your collarbone and hiking up your skirt.  
"All they'll care about is the cake and free alcohol, and maybe congratulating us if we're lucky... But no one will care if we can dance or not."  
"Still..."  
"But you know what _I_ do care about? Pleasing my bride-to-be... So let's practice," he said, firmly but playfully, and winked at you. You noticed your knickers were gone, your skirt was a rumpled pile of fabric by your waist, and Magnus had somehow managed to undress himself, too. Or well, the lower half of his body, at least. And, you couldn't help but notice, he was much more _excited_ about this than dancing...

You felt his fingers between your legs, caressing your most intimate body parts, and you could hardly pretend you weren't aroused, too. It was just his presence, a certain kind of twinkle in his eye, and you knew you'd be ready. Ready for him.  
"Fuck me, Magnus," you said, lifting your gaze up, staring right into his eyes. He nodded, smirking at you before his lips crashed back onto yours and he filled you in one quick thrust. You whimpered against his lips at his forceful intrusion, not for pain or resistance, but for pleasure. How did he fit you so well, you could barely comprehend.

But he did. He really did. Each movement from him caressed the sweetest spot inside you, and you grabbed his shoulders, not for a waltz but for this dance of two bodies against each other, a dance that moved not from side to side but in and out. In and out, until it stopped in perfect unison when you kissed, moaning into each other's mouths and grasping any and every part of each other you could as you shook and trembled out your climax.

"Well, do I pass this?" Magnus asked when his breathing wasn't as heavy anymore.  
"Can't dance, perhaps, but can I fuck?" He already had that smug grin on his face, the one that appeared when he knew he had satisfied you. You waited a while, pretending to ponder your answer.  
"Hmmm... Yeah... Maybe... Yes, yes you fucking can!" you grinned, kissing him again.  
"But we still need to get that waltz better, it's not that hard."  
"Mmmm hmmm I'll waltz you to the bedroom for round two, how about that?"

This time he knew his steps perfectly. 


End file.
